


Only The Good

by theclaravoyant



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 3x11, F/M, Gen, Mack is in Space, Multi, Self-Sacrifice, spoilers for 3x11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 16:43:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6202990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaravoyant/pseuds/theclaravoyant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Check ignition, and may God's Love be with you. - Space Oddity, David Bowie<br/>Vague bc spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only The Good

“I’ll go.”

Mack’s voice is deep, but not unshaken. There is a round of whispers – _what? Mack, no! –_ but nothing to be done. They’re running out of time. Mack turns to Coulson and nods respectfully, handing over the comms unit; the command module. Though his eyes are starting to glisten, Coulson takes it and nods back.

“Good man,” he praises.

“It’s been an honour, sir. Mostly.”

Coulson can’t help but smile a little at Mack’s bravado. It strengthens him, but all the same, he has to leave the room to prepare. He’s only just stepping back into the leadership role and this time, he’s determined not to let sending one of his crew to their potential – highly likely – death, let him do anything said crew member would not be proud of. That would be another thing he’d miss: Mack’s steadying presence. Goodness knows, they could always use it.

The others keep it brief. They all know there’s too much to say, and not enough time to say it. Mostly, the goodbyes are thankyous; assurances that Mack is protecting their loved ones as well as his own, and that the sacrifice is appreciated.

“I’m sorry,” Simmons whispers as she shakes his hand. She smiles up at him. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to know each other better.”

Mack shakes his head.

“I’m sorry I doubted you, Tiger,” he says, wrapping her in a brief, tight squeeze of a hug before letting her step back. He tilts his head toward where the others – including Fitz - are waiting for their turn. “You take care of my boy now, won’t you?”

Sniffing, she nods, and takes her leave. Lincoln is waiting to coax her away gently, so Mack turns his attention to the three left waiting in line: Elena, Daisy, Fitz. None step forward. They don’t want to go first. Probably, they are struggling to admit that this is happening, or to accept the very likely consequence of it.

“I’ve gotta go, guys,” Mack warns them.

Daisy eyes the others, and steps forward. Her eyes are brimming with tears. Her fingers twist like Fitz’ used to, as she struggles to process, to admit, to resist the urge to grab him and somehow keep him here.

“It should be me,” she breathes. “I should be – I should be taking responsibility. They’re my people.”

“No. These are your people.” Mack gestures to the team around them; Joey, Lincoln and Simmons in the doorway, Coulson outside, May waiting to brief him on the flight controls, Elena and Fitz behind them. “They need you. Your place is here, it will always be here. Thanks for sharing it with me, Tremors.”

Speechless, Daisy nods, and joins the rest of her team in the doorway. The gap she has left between Fitz and Elena seems too big now, and it’s only getting bigger as Fitz takes several slow, heartbreakingly hesitant steps forward. It’s so familiar that Simmons begins crying anew. Daisy folds herself into Lincoln’s arms.

“Mack.”

Fitz begins relatively confident, but he’s crumbling rapidly. There’s no way of putting into words how he feels. They’re brothers, teammates, family. Does Mack understand that? _Really_ understand that? In Fitz’ terms? Does Mack know that he was the beginning of Fitz being able to climb out of the pit of depression in which his brain injury and hand injury, and Ward’s betrayal and Simmons’ departure, had left him? Does Mack know that he’d been the only good thing in Fitz’ life, the only real friend he’d had, for such a long time? That he may have even saved Fitz’ life – in the long term, as well as the immediate sense?

“Come here, buddy,” Mack offers, opening his arms. Fitz leaps forward, perhaps too far too fast in his desperation, and slams into Mack’s ever-steady chest. He presses his face into Mack’s shirt, both shrivelling with embarrassment, and too upset to bother about remedying the situation. His fingers dig into Mack’s shirt and he wants to beg him to stay, but he’s too choked up now to try – though if it would have had any effect, he probably would have.

Mack’s hands are warm and still, his touch reassuring, against Fitz’ back. His stillness is at odds with his rising heartbeat, and the way his breaths are getting shallower as the moment draws near. Noticing these things as their moment drags on, Fitz pulls back. He glances over his shoulder at Elena, and quickly extricates himself from Mack’s arms.

“’M sorry,” he mumbles, “taking too much time.”

Elena shakes her head, brushing off his concern. Tears are slowly tracking down her cheeks. It’s heartening to see - and to feel - that Mack means so much to so many people. He deserves that love, and he does so much good with the strength it gives him.

“Look after Lola,” Mack insists, putting a hand on Fitz’ shoulder before he can walk away. “And make sure Coulson doesn’t break out the crazy again while I’m gone, okay?”

Fitz nods. He’s too stunned by the sudden humour, in amongst the shock of it all.

“Atta boy, Turbo.”

Mack pats his back, hard; directing him to where Daisy and Simmons are waiting to embrace him. It’s then that Elena steps forward, and removes her necklace. She cups his hand around the pendant, pressing it into his grasp.

“Be brave, mi amor,” she whispers. “Have faith.”

Mack is not sure if she leans up or he leans down or both, but their lips meet, and time stops to allow the brave lovers a moment of peace. When Mack pulls away at last, his grip on Elena’s crucifix is strong, and his heart is fast but steady, and he pulls oxygen deep into his lungs.

He turns to face May. Her expression is, as always, complex. He’s never quite mastered reading it, but the dominant emotions seem to be grief and pride. She says nothing as to his leaving, instead instructing him briefly on the basics of this particular flight control assembly. She holds the headset out to him when she is done, and when he takes it, her fingers twitch, as if she wants to stop him, or perhaps shake his hand.

“We’ll be on comms the whole time,” she promises instead. “Good luck.”

Mack looks back over his shoulder, and nods a final farewell to the team. Fixing the headset over his ears, he climbs the stairs into the fateful craft, and pulls the door shut behind him.


End file.
